Danganronpa: White Silk
by AlexeiVolkoff
Summary: A full fledged Fan Fiction called "Danganronpa: White Silk" (in reference to the literal translation of Tsumugi Shirogane), discussing the pre-game events that lead up to Game 53, using both canonical evidence inferred or shown in game as well as my own personal interpretations and inferences (headcanon) from the game... (SEE MORE AT AO3!)
1. Chapter 0: Prologue

Danganronpa:

White Silk

DISCLAIMER:

THE FOLLOWING IS A WORK OF FANFICTION, BASED UPON INFERENCE AND HEADCANON; IT IS NOT MEANT AS A CANONICAL WORK WITHIN THE FRANCHISE.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, FOR:

STRONG VIOLENCE, INCLUDING RAPE AND TORTURE

SEXUAL CONTENT, SOME OF WHICH IS CONSIDERED PERVERSE (But no Paedophilia, since even I have stuff I genuinely can't write about without feeling physically ill)

DRUG USAGE

SELF HARM AND SUICIDE

ALSO KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS SET PRE-DANGANRONPA V3, AND POST DANGANRONPA 3 – BASICALLY, IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED, WATCHED OR READ THE WHOLE DARN FRANCHISE, THERE ARE PARTS OF THIS YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND.

THANKS, AND PLEASE ENJOY.

PROLOGUE - Chapter Zero (Junko Enoshima)

I despaired. I despaired within every iota of my despair-fuelled form.

This is ridiculous. I died, right? RIIIGHHHTTTT?

This should all be over.

So annoying!

I sighed. Well, I think I sighed? Or did I? What even is sighing, anyway? Do you sigh? Should I sigh?

Lemme just look at my surroundings, for your pathetic sakes.

It's like, a cinema. I think. You probably watched it in the anime adaption, right? It's like one of those old cinemas you see stereotypically in those old period dramas and stuff.

Yep, this is the after life. Or, part of it. Honestly, after I got squished into paste the first time, I was so intrigued to continue watching the world filled with my beautiful, beautiful despair, I kinda just stayed in this lobby area, y'know? I watched my fellow classmates escape my prison, and join this little "Future Foundation"; I watched the world burn in anguish, and the fight to stop the flames; I watched the anticlimactic drama of my smaller proteges, and the ensuing epilogue; I observed my first attempted "rise from the dead" in the Neo-World Program (not that it would be me, y'know, since I'm me. Ever heard of Theseus' Ship?), and my second death (does that make me a messiah?); and I watched the attack on the Future Foundation HQ, the killing off of some minor bit characters, and the "happy ending", whole "driving into the sunset" (or, uhhhhh, floating I guess. What do boats do? Sail? I think? Hmph.)

Only, for those muppets down there, it wasn't actually a happy ending. Sure, they survived, but you can survive a while from cancer- that don't make it a decent experience.

Problem is, the world continued to burn. Nothing really changed. A year or so went by, and anarchy still ruled; Future Foundation wasn't really built to be a "world government", per se, so I don't imagine they really planned it in advance.

People got used to the despair-filled world. And you know what?

That means it isn't despair anymore! Despair is unpredictable, like a wildfire, or an atom mid-reaction. You're not supposed to, like, get used to it and accept it as the norm. Enjoy it! Do stuff with it! Try to get rid of it, and despair when you fail!

If despair is the new norm, then it isn't despair anymore. Survival of the fittest, right? Guess hope wins or whatever. But is this really even hope? It's not quite hopelessness, nor is it really hopeful. it's just...

Boredom.

What to do, eh? I mean, if I'm stuck watching this bullshit for the rest of eternity, I'll have to pluck out my own eyes. Like, come on.

Hmph. How does one change the world when it's already so... well. Y'know.

Wait... I do remember that Chisa girl saying something. Foreshadowing, or something. But... there was something about her. Like, she knew something else beside me.

...

I got it! Audience! Fourth wall! Talking and stuff! If an audience talks to the programme, that involves a certain kind of interaction. But talking to the abyss is boring... but if I could return to the abyss, the shithole world I came from that I left wallowing in my magnificence...

Tell you what. I wonder... No, not THAT. They broke it, y'know? Can't fix those pieces back together. But... what about me? Like, ME me? Is there...?

They removed that one and replaced it Star Wars-style, that one is squished, that one's - actually, I'll leave THAT one inside her I think, ha - but...

Ah-ha! Got it. What if I...?

Yes.

Yeessssssssss.

OK, I'm out. Puhu... Puhuhuhu...

Oh, I'm literally out by the way. There's a door I came in, so I'm just going out it now.

Puhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu...


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Nightmares and Daydreams (Makoto Naegi)

He knelt on the ground. It was transparent, almost reflective, like a blue sky yet darker. Waves of sky grew all across the ground, and when he looked upwards a sinister version of the world reflected at him.

He'd been here before, a year ago. He thought it had been a one-off thing, back then; but knowing the powerful, mind-bending works of despair, he should have realised that surviving the experience wouldn't be a single occurrence.

Every. Single. Night.

He watched his friends die, over and over, in this hellscape, unable to do anything but scream in his head, before eventually waking up.

This time, however, was different. He couldn't put his finger on it. The dead rose, blaming him, but their voices were quieter; their apparitions seemed almost like they weren't putting effort in.

Then the universe flipped upside down, and he fell through the watery surface, drenched in pink and blue, drowning but breathing, falling and swimming, before being emptied out onto another reflective surface, only this time the ground was a solid sky blue, failing the reflect a sombre sunset sky.

He walked. And kept walking.

Suddenly he was sitting down.

Guess who sat opposite him?

My reflection smiled, and chuckled to herself, before doing a cheerful wave at the lost young man.

Why was she here?

He spoke, but no words came out. He was at a loss.

"Cat got your tongue?" She spoke cheerfully. "Can't be bothered to speak? To listen… or even, apologise?"

He scowled, visibly annoyed.

"After all… _you killed me_."

She cackled, and did a little jiggle in her chair, before scratching her head. "OK, seriously, I'm confused, this is your dream right? Just speak already, this is booooorrrrinnnng!" She shook her head, apparently frustrated.

"Anyways, just wanted to check how you were doing, sitting around doing nothing with your happy-go-lucky pals. How are the gang doing, hm? Having fun without me?" She gave a little chuckle, before standing up. His eyes followed her, but he made no moves. Again, he opened his mouth, but all that came out was a quiet moan of pain.

She stood, leaning over him; she was only around fifteen centimetres taller than him, but he still felt dwarfed. She combed her fingers through his hair, and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm off now. I got things to do, y'know?" She spoke, somewhat quietly. She began to walk off, before turning around to say something else.

"By the way…

 _I'm still alive_."

Makoto Naegi woke with a startle, throwing his bed covers off in the process. He was hyperventilating, shivering in sweat. Dashing to the toilet, he very nearly threw up, but managed to calm himself.

Makoto sighed, and shook his head. He sat on the edge of his bed, and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, and leaned back, watching the ceiling of his room. He could vaguely hear someone coughing in the background; a few meteors bouncing off the atmosphere could be seen, presumably debris from old missiles and unused satellites.

What had he become? What of his hope?

His project, the "New" Hope's Peak Academy, sitting in a field of flowers and usually bathed in a glowing sunlight, was a failure; a symbolic gesture at what should have been the end of a dark period for humanity, ushering in a new, brighter future.

These days, most of the work the Foundation got was charitable distributions, peace keeping between the various despairing factions, and the occasional rescue mission of an Ultimate alumni. It… wasn't really the whole "saving the world" thing he'd thought it might be.

The best thing he'd managed to do was reconcile the "Remnants of Despair" – that is, his upperclassmen – with the rest of the world; or at least, the Future Foundation. Some despair zealots managed to discover Jabberwock Island, and very nearly destroyed it with a chemical weapon; they stopped it in time, but decided the location was now too well known to keep them there.

Thus, they now resided with the rest of many of the Future Foundation's members – in the new Hope's Peak Academy building, in all of it's somewhat crumbling glory. It took some getting used to; there were a few assassination attempts on them, mainly from vengeful agents who had lost friends to their previous selves, and certainly some of their various attributes took some time to control – from hamsters roaming the halls, to managing to food poison almost the entire organisation except a single guy who happened to have a cold that day – but eventually they became "part of the family", so to speak.

He stood up and took a look outside. The sky was a dark red at this time of night; although the toxic atmosphere was slowly clearing up, mainly due to some neat technological advances, it was a slow process, and the world still hadn't gotten back to its natural condition, like it's inhabitants. Shaking his head, he opened his bedroom door and took a step into the hall. Pacing down the stairs, he sung a little ditty to himself, thinking his nightmare over and over as to what it could mean.

Junko was dead, right? The dead can't rise. That's just not normal. This may be a strange world we live in, but necromancy just isn't part of it, surely?

More importantly, how would he get rid of this damn suicide programming in his head from that bloody (no pun intended) video?

He thought to himself, thinking of happy thoughts and considering some possible solutions.

However, that changed when he heard the groan from nearby, and seeing who it was – and what was happening – pushed his thoughts at bay, for now.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Pain (Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu)

What Makoto found on the floor was one of his upperclassmen, the Ultimate Yakuza – Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Writing in pain, groaning lowly, and blood seemingly pouring out of his head.

For Fuyuhiko, it had started with a headache. He'd woken yesterday morning with what felt like a mild headache, taken some painkillers, and spent the day as usual. Yet he returned to bed that evening with the headache remaining.

Then he woke, trying to scream and failing, letting out a macabre groan instead. He rushed to the bathroom, producing a massive amount of sickeningly brown vomit, straining his throat and colouring the vomit with blood. He reached for the cupboard with the painkillers inside, but looked into the mirror and jumped half a foot in the air, as he realised that his right eye was fully discoloured and squirming like a fetid worm gasping for air, giving him a small flashback to the bad old days.

Feeling winded, he stumbled in the darkness, grabbing what solid nearby wall he could, and slowly crawling into the corridors, eventually passing out somewhere.

And now Makoto stood over him in abstract horror, as blood pooled around them.

Time passed; Makoto had called some doctors to see what they could do, and summoning some relevant ultimates – including Peko – to inform them of the matter. He intended to keep this under total secrecy, feeling a duty to keep the somewhat calm atmosphere.

Yet watching Fuyuhiko's writhing body, even going into spasms and shock whilst under anaesthetic as doctors attempted to surgically remove the offending eye, he felt an unwary sense of, for want of a better word, despair.

Eventually the surgery was finished; Fuyuhiko recovered shortly afterwards, and Peko rushed to give him a somewhat unwarranted embrace. But those gathered soon noticed the grim elephant in the room, the pulsating, mouldy eye that had now been placed in a sterile container, presumably to be tested on.

Those who had gathered – Makoto, Fuyuhiko, Peko Pekoyama, Toko Fukawa, Hajime Hinata, Kyoko Kirigiri, Kyosuke Munakata, and Byakuya Togami – watched this eerie exhibition, pondering quietly what to do with this unusual situation, aside from burn the eye within every inch of it's foul existence.

"Can I be the first to say this out loud…?" Fuyuhiko stated matter-of-factly.

"What the actual fuck."


	4. Chapter 3

Hiya!

Thanks for reading this far! However, I would now like to redirect you to my AO3 account page. I don't like ; the format and uploading etc is annoying. As such, all further reading can be done from my AO3 account! I'm at around 12 chapters in so far, but I've written over 50 that I will be publishing in time! So please, read them over there!

Many thanks: /users/AlexeiVolkoff


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